I was drifting along
too long roads through Stepmoor
tired and alone
There was a shorter path
home, I knew that
for certain as a scout
but two too large boys
of the farm kicked me
back, the city child in uniform
and threatened with the dog
It already was getting dark
nobody saw me
nobody to help me
I was tired and alone
in my sadness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem